


A heated end to the war

by Clarisse (transnymphtaire)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Voldemort/Tom Riddle, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M, Omega Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnymphtaire/pseuds/Clarisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: Harry is an omega. The final battle has to wait because Harry goes into heat.</p><p>It's crossposted to ff.net under ClarisseSelwyn and Wattpad under tomarry-riddle</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a) Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics b) this pairing c) these characters - with the exception of Harry to a certain level, but I'm sure a 5-year old afab Harry doesn't count all that much.
> 
> It started as a one-shot, but a part 2 is in the works, and my plan is to have a part 3 as well.
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything you might recognize is copied from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

As he walked through the Forbidden Forest towards where Voldemort was waiting, Harry thought back on everything that had brought him here. This had always been his fate after all - to fulfill the prophecy. Months of Horcrux-hunting together with Ron and Hermione… and oh, how he had envied his friends during those months. Both could happily say that they were betas, unlike him. The Boy-Who-Lived just had to be an omega. If only luck could stay on his side instead of sweeping in whenever he found himself in life-threatening situations… but as luck would have it, he had repressed his heat for half a year and had grown resistant to the heat repressing potion. He wouldn't be able to take it again until after the residue had washed out with a heat cycle… which happened to have started just hours ago. Harry had tried taking the potion, hoping to repress his heat for a seventh month, but had only ended up feeling sick. Instead, he had masked his scent to keep the unmated alphas on the battlefield away from him. The spell must still be going strong he noted, when Yaxley and Dolohov pointed their lightened wands in his direction. With the strong scent of an omega in heat masked and with his invisibility cloak hiding him, he was impossible to find as he stood still in the darkness.

The Death Eaters talked quietly to themselves, mumbling about if they had heard an animal or not. They stopped first when Yaxley looked down at his watch. Harry's hour was up. He followed the two men towards a clearing. There was a fire burning in the middle, and in the light he could see web remains and more Death Eaters. _What a lovely place to die…_ Harry thought, as he stepped into the clearing. He must have been lost in thought as he looked around, because suddenly Voldemort's high, clear voice broke the silence.

"I thought he would come. I expected him to come."

Harry watched the Elder Wand between Voldemort's long, thin fingers with some fascination as the man talked.

"I was, it seems… mistaken." Voldemort continued. Harry finally broke from his weird trance and pulled of the invisibility cloak. The Resurrection Stone had since long slipped from his fingers unnoticed.

"You weren't."

Harry said it as loudly as he could, with all the force he could muster: he did not want to sound afraid. It was hard to hide how his heart thumped in his chest, not only at the thought that he was the Boy-Who-Lived that had walked willingly into the Dark's claws, but also an unmated omega in heat surrounded by betas and alphas, most bigger or stronger than him. He took a deep, calming breath and stepped forward into the firelight. Nobody mattered but him and Voldemort. It was just the two of them.

The illusion was gone as soon as it had come. He watched how Voldemort's nostrils flared - which was quite the feat with a mostly nonexistent nose Harry had to admit, heard the giants roar, and the cries, gasps and laughter from the Death Eaters. Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes had found Harry, and he stared as Harry moved towards him, with nothing but the fire between them. Harry could hear Hagrid yelling from a nearby tree, until Rowle silenced him. Harry kept his gaze on Voldemort, everything else melting into the background. Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy standing before him, and a single mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth.

"Harry Potter." he said, very softly. "The boy who lived."  
None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: everything was waiting.

Voldemort had raised his hand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted whatever would happen to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before his spell lost strength, before he showed his condition-  
He saw the hand come down hard on his shoulder and felt a familiar press from all directions and iron bands around his chest. They disapparated.

Harry stumbled when his feet came down on the ground again, but the grip on his shoulder kept him upright. After casting a cursory glance at Voldemort, he looked around at their destination. The room was big, with a big window and a door leading out to a balcony, as well as two doors to connecting rooms. The walls were a dark blue, the wooden floor was dark, there was a black carpet underneath a kingsized bed with dark blue canopy and bedding in a lighter blue with silver details. All in all, it was a beautiful room, but he had an annoying feeling that he knew whose room it was and he didn't like it one bit.

"I wouldn't think your bedchambers as the most fitting place for the final battle, but it is a lot nicer than the forest was." Harry commented lightly as he stepped away from Voldemort, the hand falling from his shoulder as he did. It was hard to stand upright on his own, not because of any apparition aftereffects, but because his heat hit him as a wave when he no longer stood in the forest. He felt sweat dripping down his skin, and his legs shaked in exhaustion from standing up.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry." Voldemort started, red eyes still staring at him. "The final battle as you call it, has to wait."

Harry blinked sheepishly at him.

"Why?" he asked. "You try to kill me since I'm a toddler, and when you have me before you, you decide to wait? Is this a _joke_?" he asked, his voice raising in pitch until it was hysterical.

"You're in heat - the Boy-Who-Lived, an omega, who would have thought? I will not kill you when you can barely stand up." Voldemort explained. Harry shaked his head, trying to understand the situation. It was just… just… surreal!

"You'd rather kill a toddler than someone in heat?" he cried out bewildered. Voldemort tilted his head slightly to the side.

"When you put it like that, it does sound illogical, but yes."

"How did you know anyway?" Harry cried out again. Voldemort raised a barely there eyebrow in amusement.

"Your scent, Harry. I'm an alpha, you're an omega, and your scent right now is downright delicious. Did nobody tell you how the wizarding dynamics work?"

Harry shook his head, deciding against mentioning that he had masked his scent with magic, and therefore it should be impossible for Voldemort to smell him. He even strengthened the spell by mentally feeding it more magic, but it didn't seem to make a difference.  
"I'm not staying here with you!" he decided, and made for one of the doors. As he reached it without being stopped, he grew suspicious. Harry tried the door. Locked.  
" _Alohomora_." He tried the door again. Still locked.  
/ _Open_ / he hissed in parseltongue, and tried the door a third time. Locked. Harry turned back to Voldemort, a defeated look on his face.

"Apparition or creating a portkey will not help you either." Voldemort said calmly, and sat down in an armchair in front of a fireplace that Harry hadn't noticed earlier. "Neither will floo powder." Voldemort added, seeing where Harry's eyes were drawn to.

"Let me guess, you can leave while I'm kept prisoner?" Harry asked. Voldemort looked at him with badly hidden amusement.

"Of course, Harry. We can't risk that anyone else scents you. You are to stay locked inside my chambers until your heat cycle is over. After that, we can return to the battle."

"Why would you care if anyone scents me or not?" Harry asked bewildered.

"I can't let anyone mate with you." Voldemort said. Harry felt as if there was an _else_ missing from that sentence. Either way, it was illogical to him.

Not able to stand Voldemort's company any longer, or looking at the snake-faced man for that matter, Harry went over to the bed. He laid down on the covers and claimed the bed as his own. His body relaxed somewhat, but the fabric of his outer robes felt horribly restricting, to not mention his jeans. Harry couldn't help the whimper that left his lips. Feeling Voldemort's gaze on his back,he hid his face in the pillow. It did help in suffocating his sounds, but the strong smell of alpha that overwhelmed him only made more whimpers leave him. After six months of repressing his heat cycle, it came on much stronger than usual. This level of pure _need_ would haven't happened until the third day if he had regular cycles. Harry laid whimpering into the pillow until he fell into an exhausted, feverish sleep.

The smell of hot chocolate woke him up. Harry sat up somewhat, leaning on his elbows, and looked around groggily. Why would there be hot chocolate in May? He soon got an answer to the unspoken question:  
"The warmth will sooth your throat, and the chocolate helps releasing endorphins that lessen pain and decrease stress."

"Muggle science?" Harry asked, as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He thought he had fallen asleep with his glasses on, but they were not on his face as the still blurry surroundings proved. Harry frowned. Had Voldemort removed them?

"Yes, Muggle science. It can be quite fascinating." Voldemort answered, as Harry woke up enough to remember that he wasn't talking with the man at the moment. He recognized the shape of his glasses on the bedside table and put them on. Seeing clearly he noted two things, first; he was no longer wearing his outer robes and was therefore left dressed only in his t-shirt and jeans, second; the hot chocolate smell came from a mug standing on the bedside table, next to a plate with buttered toast.

"You've slept for five hours. The food was brought here by an house elf." Voldemort informed him.

Harry looked at the food warily, before lifting up a piece of toast to nibble on. Some food would hopefully make him feel better. He felt in need of a shower though…

"There's a bathroom through the door that you surprisingly didn't try to open yesterday."

He glanced at Voldemort this time. Was the man using legilimency on him? Harry frowned again.

"You're being childish by not talking to me." the man continued. Harry decided to zone him out and focus on eating.

A piece of toast and half a mug of hot chocolate later, Harry carefully got up from the bed. His clothes were plastered to his body, and he couldn't help the small sounds from his throat whenever a sensitive area was rubbed as he moved. It took him way longer than he wanted to cross the room to the bathroom door, with Voldemort's gaze following his every movement. It was a great relief when he could lock the bathroom door behind him. Harry took a moment to rest against the door as he looked around the room. There was a giant sunken bathtub with different taps that reminded him a lot of the prefects bathroom from his fourth year. There was also a shower big enough for three people in the corner, a toilet, a sink and a full-length mirror, but the bathtub was the most noteworthy. Harry moved to it and turned on some of the taps. Soon the bathtub was filled with hot water, some oil that smelled like vanilla and blue bubbles that had their own blueberry scent. He spent a second imagining the Dark Lord smelling like vanilla and blueberries, before remembering the heavy scent of cinnamon and dark chocolate that the pillows had held. He swore as his face flushed. _It's okay to be attracted to the scent, as long as I'm not attracted to snake-face._ Harry decided. It was only because he was in heat that he found the scent attractive anyway.

Harry got undressed slowly, the jeans had been stuck to his legs almost like a second skin. When he finally was naked, he got into the bathtub. The hot water relaxed his stiff muscles, and he leaned back against the edge. He closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth of the water and in the opportunity to finally relax after being in the middle of a war for so long. Harry drifted off as he laid in the water.

He felt himself getting dragged out of the now cool water and held tightly in an embrace. Harry slowly opened his eyes, the world coming back until he realized his face was pressed against a clothed chest.

"You stupid boy! Are you suicidal? Falling asleep in the bath, you could have drowned!"

He reacted instinctively as he remembered who was holding him, and pushed free from the tight embrace.

"Why do you care? It would have made it easier for you!" Harry snapped, and made to stand up. Voldemort stopped him and embraced him again. Harry tried to fight it, but the man smelled so good, and was so warm and… he whimpered needily before realizing that he was nuzzling against Voldemort's chest.

"I care, Potter, because you are _mine_. Mine to kill, mine to possess, mine to mate with."  
The last four words made him get his senses back, and this time Harry was successful when he pushed away. After hurryingly reinforcing the scent masking smell, he realized two things. One, he was both wet and naked, and two, Voldemort as an alpha was downright terrifying.

"I'm not yours!" Harry snapped, and looked around for an towel. He found one waiting for him on the floor by the bathtub edge, and hastily snatched it up to cover himself. Voldemort gave him an once-over that seemed to both last forever and linger unnecessary on his upper body before meeting his eyes.

"Perhaps not yet." the man agreed.

Harry searched the floor for his glasses, noticed his pile of clothes was gone, and left the bathroom.

He found his glasses as well as a change of clean clothes waiting for him on the bed. Harry hurriedly put the clothes on while Voldemort still was in the bathroom. After putting on his glasses he saw that the hot chocolate and buttered toast had been exchanged to tea and toast with strawberry jam. He would have complained, but he really couldn't eat much else than toast during his heat. Harry sat down on the bed to eat his lunch as Voldemort came out of the bathroom. The man didn't say anything as he sat down in the same armchair as earlier. The rest of the day continued in silence, with Harry on the bed and Voldemort in the armchair. The third day continued much like the second had done, with an exception for drowning accidents. By the fourth, Harry was cursing his heat with colourful explosives and Voldemort was greatly annoyed at not being able to touch. Not to mention that Harry hadn't as much as glanced in his direction since the second day.

"Is it because of my looks?" Voldemort asked suddenly. Harry actually gave him a cursory glance this time, but didn't answer since he had no idea what the man was talking about.  
"I must admit, it didn't cross my mind that aesthetically pleasing and sexually attractive is two fairly different things. That is not to assume that you find my snakelike form aesthetically pleasing either. I have been faulty with you, and for that I apologize. Let me correct it immediately." he continued. Harry watched amazed as the glamour charm dropped with a golden light, leaving a man that didn't look older than 25 in place of the Dark Lord. After long scrutinizing, he recognized the 16-year old Tom Riddle's features.

"How?" Harry breathed, forgetting his silent treatment for the moment.

"He talks!" Voldemort, no - that name did not fit this face - Tom exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. "As for how, I'm sure you have learned about glamours."

"Not that." Harry grumbled. "I saw you! After your resurrection!"

"Oh, _that_. Did you really think that was the only part of the ritual, Harry? I got my old body back a few weeks later, when the second ritual was ready. Since then, you've only seen me wearing the glamour."

"...but you're old!" Harry complained. There really was no reason for Tom to look 20.

"For that, I'm assuming I got back my body from before I delved into the Dark Arts too much."

"You mean with horcruxes?" Harry asked. Tom actually got quiet for a moment and stared at him.

"You shouldn't know about those." he answered slowly. "Though it doesn't surprise me that Dumbledore figured it out… and of course he would tell his Golden Boy about it." Tom sneered. Harry decided that it was enough conversation for the day, and laid back down on the bed to sleep. The very attractive man seated on the other side of the room wasn't helping his hormones one bit, and he was glad he hadn't whimpered. Trust his temperament to take over enough for the heat to be manageable. Too bad that it didn't last.

The fifth day, Tom was fed up. Harry's heat wasn't over yet, and the insufferable brat refused to talk to him - though he had noticed Harry glancing at him a lot more since he dropped the glamour.

"Why are you still ignoring me?" he complained. Harry sat up in bed, leaning on his elbows, and sent Tom an amused look.

"You sound like a child." Harry giggled. Then he turned bright red because he had just giggled, and settled down so he was laying on the bed again.

"That is not an answer to my question!" Tom snapped.

"You want a list? You kidnapped me, your followers have killed my friends, you usually try to kill me, you killed my parents, you are the bloody Dark Lord, we have to kill each other, and hot body or not, you're 70 years old!"

"Kidnapping is much better than death, your _dear_ friends have also killed my followers, you do try to kill me as well, mind you, and you have succeeded much better than I, my title should not count for anything, not to mention it should be an honor for you to be in my company, and unless you know something about the prophecy that I don't, I don't see why we _have to_ kill each other, and lastly, 54 years is not that big of a difference for wizards. Dumbledore was 115 years old when he died. I'm only 9 years closer to him in age than I am to you. Not to mention that you are 17, so it's completely legal."

"Okay, firstly, that is _not_ making things better. You're old enough to be my grandfather!" Harry complained. Tom answered by raising an eyebrow at him, since age really was the last of their problems here.

"The prophecy?" he asked. Harry took a deep breath.

"It says… _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those that have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies_. You know that part. _And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal_ \- the mark is my scar - _but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not_ \- which Dumbledore insists is love, but I'm questioning it. _And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives_. After that, it just repeats the beginning."

"If the mark that makes you my equal is your scar, that prophecy is self fulfilling." Tom mused, as he thought it over. "The last part sounds utterly ridiculous too, we are both quite obviously alive. It can be argued that neither of us are truly living, but survival should surely still count for something. You have already vanquished me twice, first as a toddler, and then again at the age of 11. I would think the only thing left here is that _either must die at the hand of the other_...but, say, Harry, what do you know of french?"

"Not much." Harry admitted, as he tried to follow Tom's line of thinking.

"It's a beautiful language, very inspiring. Voldemort comes from Vol de mort, which is french for _flight from death_. The french have a very curious expression, _la petite mort_ \- the little death. It's usually a reference to orgasm, as it means 'the brief loss or weakening of consciousness' which is a similar sensation. Does it not seem like quite the coincidence that I'm an alpha, you're an omega, we're both unmated, and your heat cycle starts on the day of the battle?" Tom explained. Harry had the fleeting thought that the man would have made a brilliant teacher before he understood what Tom was saying.

"The prophecy is telling us to fuck?" he exclaimed in shock.

"Do try to be less vulgar, Harry, but exceedingly, yes."

"Prophecy or no prophecy, why would you want _me_ to begin with?"

"I'm not sure myself. It could be because you're the first omega to ever catch my attention. Hormones is quite the inconvenience usually, so I learnt long ago how to remain stoic to the scent."

"But _why_ did I catch your attention?" Harry cried.

"It could be because of our _connection_." Tom mused. "It has always puzzled me. Perhaps I can sense your heat cycle through it. It's definitely making me feel possessive of you."

"That connection is all your fault for making me a Horcrux to begin with!" Harry protested. Tom stared at him inapprehensibly.

"You're a… Horcrux?" he whispered, almost worshipping. "That's wonderful! My mate, my horcrux!" This time, it was Harry that stared at Tom inapprehensibly.

"I'm not your mate!" he snapped.

"Oh, but think about it Harry! If we think about the prophecy as actual death for a moment, it's saying that only we can kill each other, making us immortal, and with my Horcruxes I'm even more so! With you being my Horcrux, it should help your healing abilities, leading to improved immortality for you as well. If we mate, we could be together forever!"

"Would we want that? To be together forever?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Yes, why not?" Tom questioned.

"I'm not exactly overwhelmed with joy at the prospect of being with a guy for eternity. I'm not gay."

"...are you sure?" Tom asked with obvious disbelief. "Have you ever been together with anyone to be so sure?"

"Not really… There was Cho, but she's also an omega so it could never have worked… and I guess there has been something with Ginny, but she is too much like a sister." Harry thought out loud.

"Who have you found attractive then?"

"My godfather was handsome when he lived, and Zabini in my year looks quite good, and so do you… shit."

Tom looked at him, obviously amused.  
"Your type is tall, dark and handsome then?" he asked, holding back a laugh. "I think I fit quite nicely, and you did just admit that you find me attractive. Any other problems?"

"I'm only 17!" Harry sighed, exhausted after the long conversation. He could feel the sweat running down his neck and back from trying to ignore the heat.

"Age again? I thought we already covered that…"

"No, I meant, I don't want to lose my virginity like this. It's not even my age as much as being locked inside in a room with someone that was supposed to be my mortal enemy… you know?"

"I suppose I can understand what you're thinking about. It was long since I thought of being unmated as the same as being a virgin… but it can be because of your exposure to muggles." Tom said. "I do pride myself in my self control, so I can go slow if you want to. It will definitely get the edge off for both of us."

"Okay." Harry agreed. As he relaxed, his heat washed over him as a wave again. A needy whimper left his throat as he realized that Tom had moved to sit on the bed while they talked.

Tom removed Harry's glasses before bending down over him. He slowly brought his face closer to Harry's. Their lips were nearly touching when he stopped.  
"Is this okay?" Tom whispered and Harry felt Tom's breath as it washed over his face.

"Yes." he whispered back, and Tom leaned down so that their lips touched. The kiss was slow, painfully so. Tom sucked at his lower lip for a moment before he glided his tongue over it. Harry opened his mouth as he whimpered. Tom took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, and for a moment Harry forgot everything else. The small relief from the heat made him feel both lighter and more desperate. Tom kissed him over and over again for what felt like hours, as their hands carefully exploried the other's body but stayed on their clothes.

/ _More_ / Harry hissed in parseltongue, the snake language coming easier than the human tongue at the moment. / _Warm_ / he then complained. Tom got the hint and removed his t-shirt. With the relief of cold air against his skin and Tom's lips against his, Harry forgot all about his scent masking spell. Suddenly, Tom growled.

/ _Mine_ / Tom hissed against his lips, and made a short job of the rest of their clothes. Harry forgot to mind as he felt Tom's skin against his.

Harry woke up first the next morning. He felt warm and the sheets was stuck to his body with sweat, and Tom's arms were heating his skin from where they were placed around his waist, but he felt better than he had done since the heat started. The pure _need_ was still buzzing underneath his skin, but he didn't mind it as much now. He nuzzled closer to Tom and fell asleep again. The next time he woke up, it was to Tom staring down at him.

"I'm sorry." Tom whispered, looking absolutely horrified with himself. Harry smiled at him.

"Together forever." Harry answered, and the two words meant everything - apology accepted, yours, love.

"Together forever." Tom agreed, looking absolutely amazed that this boy could get through his defences like this.

They stayed in bed until Harry's heat was finally over and they came to the regretful realization that they had left in the middle of a war, in which they were on different sides. There's a heavy silence in the air as they got dressed, collected their wands and in Harry's case also shoes from their forgotten places. Tom reapplied his glamour. Harry hesitated just for a moment before pressing a kiss to the thin lips of Lord Voldemort, and then they disapparated. They landed not in the clearing, but in front of Hogwarts. The battle was still going strong, but it seemed like both sides had lost hope during their time away. As they reappeared the spells gained more force. Harry didn't hesitate as he took a step forward and casted a _sonorus_ at himself.

"Stop!" Harry demanded, and the battles around him actually did. The Death Eaters looked to Voldemort, who nodded his agreement. Soon, wands were lowered and Harry felt like thousand pair of eyes was upon him. Voldemort stepped up beside him, and casted _sonorus_ as well.

"The battle is over. Harry Potter have surrendered-"

"Have not!" Harry interrupted, and turned to glare at Voldemort. The Death Eaters in the crowd gasped.

"We have agreed on a _truce_." Harry continued, ignoring that Voldemort is now the one that glared at him. "Minerva McGonagall, if still alive, is to be Hogwarts new headmistress. The curriculum will be decided by both sides. The Dark side can chose a new Ministry of Magic, as long as their equality include muggleborns and squibs, not only Dark Creatures."

"And when did I agree to this?" Voldemort asked, unamused for once.

"When you fucked me." Harry answered cheerily as he beamed at Voldemort, the _sonorus_ forgotten for a moment. This time, the gasps - and outcries of both disgust and rage - came from both sides. Voldemort shaked his head, and turned back to the crowd. He dropped his glamour, resulting in another round of gasps but also some highly inappropriate comments and whistles. Harry don't blame them, since Tom still looked like he just had sex. Harry even more so, but his hair is always unruly and most of his hickeys and love bites are hidden by his clothes.

"As my _mate_ so rudely decided, the Light can decide on a headmaster or headmistress for Hogwarts. Lucius Malfoy will be now Minister of Magic." Tom informed the crowd, before turning to Harry. "Have we missed anything?"

"Nothing that cannot wait." Harry decided, and cancelled his _sonorus_. Tom did the same. They wordlessly agreed to go over the dead and start arranging funerals.

They met up again hours later by the Great Lake. Harry was sitting by the lake shore, staring out at the water surface. Tom came up from behind him and sat down. Harry let his head lean against Tom's shoulder.

"I can't believe that it's all over…" Harry whispered.

"It it's quite unexpected." Tom agreed and placed an arm around Harry's waist.

"Not how you imagined it?" Harry couldn't help but ask dryly.

"I'd think this is much better." Tom answered thoughtfully. "It's… _nice_ to know that someone will always be by my side after a life of being alone."

"We'll be together forever." Harry promised.

"Yes, I really like the sound of that… together forever."


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month after the war, the Ministry is craving all their attention and something is not quite right with Harry.

A month had passed since the battle of Hogwarts, as the Daily Prophet had entitled it. With the beginning of June, summer had arrived as well. That did not in any way mean that he could relax though. Far from it. There was still so much needed to reform the British wizarding world, and Harry found himself more than once regretting that the time-turners were stuck in an endless loop of falling back in the Time Room and therefore rendered useless. One could expect the Ministry to have gotten their hands on new ones since then, but sadly that wasn't the case. Harry made a mental note of importing more time-turners to the Department of Mysteries. There was something bitterly amusing with that thought, that he could actually make a difference in Ministry matters now, when he was barely an adult and had yet to finish his education. Part of it was of course because of his new role as the Dark Lord's mate, but a surprisingly big part of it was thanks to his own status as the Boy-Who-Lived.

Speaking of the Dark Lord… they hadn't had much time to themselves since they sat together by the Great Lake, but they were extremely aware of the other whenever they were in the same room. If not for that… _awareness_ , Harry would probably never had noticed the glances that Tom gave him. They had gotten more frequent lately, and his chest felt tight whenever he noticed them, though it didn't say much as his chest always felt tighter around Tom. Nothing good could from those glances, a notion that had made him slowly distance himself from Tom. It was easy, and done in such a way that it wouldn't be obvious, with how much work there was to do. Especially in the Department of Mysteries, something that had become Harry's pet project. Sadly, nothing he did would make a difference if luck chose to abandon his side, as it so often did.

"Harry." Tom said, not as a greeting but as a demand of attention. Harry paused in his categorization of objects - all of them questionable and most of them dark - to look up.

"Tom." he answered, slow and calculating. If this was going to be a game, he would not only play it but also decide the rules. The years had only made him more Slytherin, and Gryffindor tendencies aside, he would probably have done great in the house of snakes as the Sorting Hat liked to remind him.

"Are you feeling okay?" Tom questioned, scrutinizing him. Harry smiled, deciding to humor him.

"Should I not?"

Tom paused.  
"You should be in heat."

"And I would be, if there was time for it." Harry agreed. Tom looked at him as if he was _insane_.

"Are you on repressive potions?" Tom demanded, his tone on the border between being upset and being worried.

"I am." Harry answered, as he went back to his categorization.

"Have I done something wrong? Are you punishing me?" Tom asked, his tone more upset than worried now.

Harry paused for real this time.  
"Is there something I don't know?" he finally decided to ask. Tom faltered.

"You're so _young_ … I can't believe I forgot. I should have taken my responsible as an alpha much sooner…" Tom answered, more to himself than to Harry. Meanwhile, Harry felt the tightening in his chest return.

"Harry, tell me honestly. What do you know about being an omega?"

"...I go into heat once a month, and have done so since 16. My scent attract alphas, but less so now that I have a mate. A heat cycle can be repressed with the aid of potion for up to six months, before the body grows resistant and the residue needs to be washed out by a heat cycle." Harry answered slowly.

"And what do you know about being mated?"

"There's… there's an _awareness_ whenever you're close, and my chest tightens."

"How much of this is from experience, and how much have you learnt in other ways?"

"It's all from experience… Tom, please just tell me what it is that I should know!"

"Not here." Tom answered, looking around in the very empty room. "I don't trust the Department of Mysteries to not have ears hidden in the walls." he paused. " _Literally._ "

"Let me just put this away then…" Harry said, as he waved his wand. The things he had been organizing rose up in the air and returned to their previous places. As soon as the last object was placed, Tom gripped his hand and they disapparated.

"I always forget that our signatures are written into the wards…" Harry mused as they landed. Tom stood perfectly while Harry himself had fallen to the floor. "I would spare so much time if I apparated everywhere, but the landings would perhaps be a setback."

"I would prefer if you didn't. Salazar knows what you would manage to do to yourself if you did." Tom answered, and gave Harry a quite meaningful _look_ while he helped Harry up from the floor. Harry looked around at where they had apparated to.

"Your chambers? Is this going to turn into a monthly ritual?" Harry asked with amusement.

"It could." Tom answered slyly, and it took Harry a minute before he realized that he was supposed to be in heat and that they were in Tom's bedroom. When it connected, Harry became flushed. They hadn't been intimate since the last time they were in here, except for fleeting touches and a kiss when they had time for it.

"Which brings me back to our problem." Tom then continued, as if Harry wasn't flushed red in front of him, even if he did take a moment to admit that Harry looked sinfully delicious. " _You_."

Harry walked over to one of the armchairs and sat down, not feeling inclined to stand up for this conversation.  
"Do continue, _dear_. I really do want to know how I'm the problem _this time_."

Tom followed him, and sat down so that they faced each other.  
"You have probably not noticed the difference, since I suspect that you are more accustomed to our Horcrux connection than I am, but there's a second connection now. We mated, we are mates, we are bonded together, and because of that we have a bond connection as well. It's both telepathic and empathic in nature, strengthening the connection we already had to something unique." Tom began. In Harry's eyes, Tom had slipped into his teaching role. The thought reminded him of a subject he had wanted to talk about for a while, but it had to wait until this conversation was over.

"When you repress your heat cycle with potions, the bond connection reacts and acts out. In biological terms, when you have a mate, there's no _need_ to repress it any longer. The result is that both of us feel physically sick, and that I get the backlash of your hormones." Tom paused, probably to see if he had missed anything.  
" _Are_ you feeling okay? You never did answer…" Harry could hear the worry bleed through as Tom asked.

"I have told you already that my chest feels tight with you close." Harry protested. Tom looked at him blankly for a moment, before his eyes widened just slightly.

"When I'm _close_?" Tom repeated. "It's supposed to ache when we're _separated_!"

"Well, you know me, Tom. I was born to go beyond expectations." Harry answered with a great deal of sarcasm.

"It's no joking matter, Harry, but you might be thinking in the right directions."

"Do you have a better idea?" Harry snapped. They had gravitated towards each other as they talked, and the tightening in his chest was becoming unbearable. This was the longest they had been together since they had mated. Tom flinched back, and the distance between them made Harry breathe just a bit easier.

"I don't." Tom admitted softly. "Perhaps your Department of Mysteries can be of help? I'll raid my own and my followers libraries for information as well. For now though… is the pain in your chest the only problem?"

"I think so. There's been so much to do this last month that I have barely had time for myself." Harry answered and rolled his shoulders in a careless shrug, a motion that for Tom screamed how insignificant Harry thought himself.

"Take the next few days off." Tom suggested. "Take the counter-potion for the heat repressor too. It can be an overuse of the potion that is the problem."

"I will." Harry said. "On the condition that you listen to me now, and don't try to argue until I'm done."

Tom nodded his agreement, curious as to what Harry wanted.  
"First things first, can you _please_ remove the curse on the Defence position? I've only had two decent teachers, and one of them was a Death Eater in disguise sent by you."

"Consider it done. I'm… _sorry_ for the inconvenience it has caused you." Tom said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Good. Then I want you to apply to it. It's the only thing you ever wanted to be, right? Except for a Dark Lord, I guess…" Harry added the last comment drily. "I think you would be a great teacher, if you were to be one as you and not as a ghoul possessing one. If not in Defence, then I'm sure no one can match your qualifications for Dark Arts."

Tom leant back in his armchair as he considered it.  
"It would be a… _treat_ so to say, to be able to call Hogwarts home once more. Even more so to actually teach, not just rest on the back of someone's head. I could not possibly be away from you most of the year though, and it would be a bad start for the renewed Hogwarts if one of the teachers were to only stay a year - which is assuming that you're planning on going back in the first place." Tom paused. " _Are you?_ "

"It would be nice to have at least one year that is not going to end in some adventure that I'm far too young for." Harry answered slowly. "If there's still any adventures left that I am too young for."

Tom blinked at him.  
"I'm aware that I disturbed your first, fourth and fifth year in person, but what else have you been through?"

"Second year, Lucius Malfoy gave your diary Horcrux to Ginny Weasley, and it posessed her to open the Chamber of Secrets. Your Horcrux was going to steal her life to gain a body. I found the Chamber, fought the Basilisk - Fawkes came with the Sorting Hat which contained the Sword of Gryffindor. Fawkes blinded the Basilisk, I stabbed the Basilisk with the sword through its mouth, and got bitten as I did. Then I took the Basilisk fang from my arm and destroyed your Horcrux with it. Fawkes cried for me, hence I'm still here. Third year, my godfather escaped from Azkaban after he saw a picture of Wormtail in his animagus form in the Daily Prophet. He spent the year trying to capture Wormtail, and with Sirius as an escapee from Azkaban the school was full of dementors - and dementors likes me very much. By the end of the school year, Hermione and I used her time-turner to save Sirius and a hippogriff from death. Our Defence teacher that year was a werewolf, and he turned as we were bringing Wormtail to the castle. Wormtail fled, as you probably guessed. Sixth year was a mix of seeing pensieve memories about you to learn about Horcruxes, and actual Horcrux hunting. Not to mention that you had arranged for Draco to kill Dumbledore. I was there for most of his failed tries, and I was there to witness when Snape killed Dumbledore instead. I think my third year is the only year where you weren't involved."  
Tom honestly gaped at him.

"You are _impossible_!"

Harry smiled darkly in response.

"You found the Chamber at the mere age of 12? And killed the Basilisk? And destroyed my Horcrux?!"

"Impossible could just as well be my middle name. I cast a Patronus strong enough to repel a hundred dementors in my third year, the same year that I learnt the spell. I won the Triwizard Tournament at the age of 14, without any help from my friends as they had abandoned me and while competing against adults. I flew on thestrals and broke into the ministry at 15. I both broke into Gringotts and then escaped on a dragon the day before the battle."

"Are you actually _human_? _How are you alive_?" Tom questioned, obviously bewildered. Then he paused, as he realized what Harry had been saying.  
" _Have you destroyed my Horcruxes?_ " Tom asked, his tone enough to make Harry flinch.

"Not all of them! Dumbledore destroyed the Gaunt ring, and unless Nagini have died, you still have her, not to mention _me_."

Harry watched wearily as Tom regained his senses.  
"Then I have to keep you with me at all times." Tom reasoned calmly. "The best way to do that would be to chain you up somewhere so that you can't escape, since danger seems to be following you wherever you go, but that would not make you like me any better… You're lucky that Hogwarts is one of the safest places in Britain. You _will_ go back for your seventh year, and you _will_ become the Defence professor after graduation."

"And who'll be the Defence professor when I'm a student? Are you agreeing to being the Dark Arts teacher then?"

"I think _I_ will be your Defence professor for one year, and then the Dark Arts class can start after your graduation. If it's merely a change of position, and you become the Defence professor directly after graduation, I see no problem with the situation."

"I'm not sure where the greatest irony lies, in the Dark Lord and the Chosen One being mates, or in the Dark Arts and Defence professors being mates…" Harry mused.

"Then it's decided. Inform your headmistress of it as soon as possible, so that I can chose books needed for the next school year. Inform her that you're returning to finish your seventh year as well. For now, go take the counter-potion and sleep."

"This is the only time you can order me around, and _only because I'm letting you_." Harry said, and disapparated.

Tom grimaced at Harry's parting words before he disapparated as well, as he decided to raid his followers libraries sooner rather than later.

It was a week later that Tom visited the Department of Mysteries again. Harry was in the Entrance Chamber this time, putting up signs on the doors. It was too much of an inconvenience to spend hours opening doors when trying to get somewhere. He would have to make sure that the doors were warded to only let the Unspeakables enter instead. If Tom helped him put up the wards in parseltongue, there should not be any problems… and speaking of Tom.

"Have you found anything?" Harry asked without stopping what he was doing.

"I found a rare copy of an old text written in Thracian - a language that has been extinct since the early Middle Ages. It spoke of dominance and submissiveness in alphas and omegas." Tom said. Harry paused what he was doing and turned around to give Tom his full attention.  
"It said that although alphas are seen as the dominant partner and omegas as the submissive, there have been rare cases when an alpha turns out to be submissive or an omega to be dominant. It causes a bit of a problem when it's an alpha's' instincts to take control and an omega's instincts to obey the alpha. There's no registered case of a submissive alpha and dominant omega mating, but there are some clues to what happens when both partners are dominant or submissive." Tom paused to let Harry take in the information.

"A mated pair where both partners are submissive does not have any outward symptoms, and relies on the personalities of the individuals. In the case of a relationship between two dominants, the omega's will fights against instinct which can take shape as pain. Especially if the alpha has an extraordinary strong aura."

"You're saying that _I_ ' _m_ a _dominant_ omega?" Harry asked, not quite able to believe what he had heard, but clever enough to not dismiss it.

"It may be extremely rare, Harry, but you should not be so surprised. You're capable of throwing of even my _Imperius_ , it's clear that you have a magnificient will."

"Are you _complimenting_ me?" Harry asked, his eyebrow raised and his smile amused. Tom smiled softly at him.

"Perhaps I am. It could also be the last puzzle piece to the prophecy - _power the Dark Lord knows not_. It's a bit of a stretch since I'm dominant, but it could be that you have the power to be dominant over me - which is certainly a power I've never known before. However it is, it does leave us with a problem though - we're both dominant, and you're in pain because of it."

"Does that book of yours offer any solutions?"

"Not any that were actually translatable or reasonable. We could add a room for it, but then we would have to wait years before the Unspeakables have any results, and you would have to let yourself be experimented on."

Harry grimaced at the thought.

"Should we fight for dominance?" he suggested. Their lives had been rather focused on fighting each other before.

"Your idea can hold some merit. The question remains if it's duelling or a physical fight that is needed."

"Or it could be a mental one. Perhaps it works like Slytherin's Power Plays."

"Then I say - let the best man win."

They looked at each other fondly, but the challenge between them was quite obvious in the air. Harry found it greatly amusing as a mere week ago he had been more than ready to play games.

"How was your heat?" Tom asked conversationally. Harry's smile lost its fondness as it widened. It was just too obvious what Tom was out after - for him to admit that he needed Tom.

"Much better than the last." Harry answered truthfully. He could see how Tom's jaw tensed, and knew that he had struck a nerve. It had been much better though, it had not lasted for as long nor had he been as overpowered with pure _need_. He had longed for Tom with his whole being, but he were not going to admit that out loud. Not while they were playing.

"Then we can only hope that it continues." Tom answered. Harry decided to give in for a bit, since he would rather not spend the next heat alone as Tom implied.

"I would rather hope that my bed will not be as cold the next time." Harry said, and took a step closer to Tom.

The door that lead into the Department of Mysteries opened and Unspeakable Rookwood entered. Both Tom and Harry turned their gazes towards him, as if they were predators and Rookwood were their prey.  
"The minister wants to see you, my Lord." Rookwood said, before turning to Harry.  
"Mr. Potter, the time-turners you've ordered have arrived. Shall I help you set them up in the Time Room?"

"Thank you, Rookwood. Harry, I look forward to seeing you later." Tom said and left.

Harry smiled softly at Rookwood.  
"You have a great sense of time for when to arrive. Your help would be much appreciated."

Rookwood nodded at him, and together they went to retrieve the time-turners.

Harry left the Time Room first hours later. It was likely close to midnight, yet the Ministry was buzzing with activity. It would surely die down in a month or so, but for now there was still much needed to be done. Harry was walking towards the apparition point, although he technically did not need it, when Tom stopped in front of him - forcing him to stop as well.  
"Darling, you didn't have to wait for me." Harry teased.

"I had the most curious realization earlier." Tom answered. "You've been to my home twice, yet I'm still unaware where you live."

"Technically, you've kidnapped me to your bedroom twice." Harry answered with a smirk. "I'll humor you though. I live in the house that I inherited from my godfather."

"You can still apparate there if you chose so." Tom said, casually waving his comment away. "You live in a Black house then?"

"Yes." Harry confirmed, seeing no harm in giving Tom information that would be easy to get anyway.

"Do tell, where is this house located?"

"It's in London." Harry answered, and shrugged with one shoulder. He could see that Tom grew frustrated with him.

"It's under the _Fidelius_ charm." he added. He could play nice to.

"The secret-keeper?" Tom asked with a raised eyebrow, more impatient than frustrated now.

"The Order of the Phoenix." Harry answered, and disapparated away. He probably ought to change that… could he re-cast the _Fidelius_ and become the sole secret-keeper perhaps? It could wait until tomorrow though.

_In retrospect, he should have done it as soon as he got home_ , Harry thought a few hours later after he had woken up to Tom staring down at him.  
"Who?" Harry asked as he sat up. He stretched his arms out above his head and suffocated a yawn against his shoulder as he did.

"Mundungus Fletcher."

Harry sighed. He had somehow forgotten all about Dung. To be honest, he was surprised to find that the man was still alive.

"Just get into the bed already. I was quite happy being asleep." Harry grumbled and laid back down. Tom slipped in next to him a moment later. Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, and Harry smiled to himself since he had easily won this battle. He had to give Tom some credit for finding an Order member so fast though. It didn't take long before they were both asleep.

The next time Harry woke up, Tom was once again staring down at him.  
"You're not going to make a hobby out of that, I hope." Harry said and reached for his glasses.

"Good morning to you too, my dear." Tom answered and bent down to place a kiss on his scar. Harry slipped on his glasses, but stayed where he was. His chest didn't hurt quite as much now, so he assumed that his theory about Power Plays had been correct.

"Any plans for the day?" Harry asked.

"We could steal a time-turner from the Time Room and spend more time in bed, slowly exploring each others bodies with hands and kisses…" Tom started slowly as he trailed his fingers over Harry's side. "Or we could get up now and eat a quick breakfast before apparating to the Ministry and become swamped in work."

"Mmm…" Harry hummed in agreement to the first option. It would be so easy… too easy…

"What do you want for breakfast?" Harry asked, and got up from the bed.

" _You_." Tom answered. Harry glanced back at him, and saw the predatory smile spread slowly. _Fuck_.

"Go steal a time-turner. I'm gonna take a shower." Harry said, with a small sigh as he lost the battle. Tom apparated before Harry as much as took a step away from the bed.

Tom returned a few minutes later. Harry didn't notice until he felt a body behind him in the shower and a pair of arms sneaked around his waist.

"Are you going to show any of that impressive self control today?" Harry asked, and turned his head so that he could reach Tom's lips. He got an unbearably slow kiss as his answer.

/ _Mine_ / Harry hissed, before Tom could claim him.

/ _Each other's_ / Tom compromised. Touches and kisses blurred together after that, and Harry never quite gripped his head around how they moved from the shower to the bed.

They never did use the time-turner in the end, instead deciding that they had done more for the Ministry than could be reasonably asked from them and therefore had deserved a day off. As a consequence, they didn't get any more free time together for a while. Harry went through July's heat alone too, but Tom had promised to be there for the next. That was part of the reason to why they now - on Harry's 18th birthday - were in Tom's bedroom. The bigger reason was that Tom had once again apparated Harry there without warning.

"You do really need to stop making a habit out of this." Harry commented lightly.

"Then where would the fun be?" Tom asked, his innocent tone sounding completely wrong when coming from the Dark Lord.

"I thought we had dinner plans. With my friends." Harry said, as if he hadn't heard Tom.

"We do. I moved the dinner to my dining room. They're all waiting for us. I took you here first to give you your surprise."

Harry turned to look at Tom better, his attention clearly caught. Tom smoothly slipped down on one knee.

"If you're proposing, I'm walking right out of here and you'll have to search the whole planet to find me." Harry warned. As easy as their relationship was, and as stuck together they already were as mates, he was not going to agree to such an obvious sign of ownership as an engagement ring. Tom's only response was to grin at Harry as he took Harry's hand in his.

"I want you to mark me." Tom said.

"Mark you?" Harry repeated.

"Yes. We're equals, mates. You've borne my mark since the age of one, it would only be fair for you to mark me in return."

"Then I will. You scarred me for life, and I will scar you in return." Harry decided.

"I thought you might want to do that." Tom began, with a slight grimace at the thought that he was willingly letting someone put a scar on his perfect skin. "I had a ritual knife made so that the scar will never fade."

Harry helped Tom up from the floor.

"Give me knife, then remove your shirt and lay down on the bed on your back." Harry demanded. Tom did as asked without comment.

Harry straddled Tom on the bed and ran a hand over his pale chest. Where to place his mark? Harry bit his lip thoughtfully as he inspected Tom's chest. He had the perfect idea… Harry lightly ran the tip of the knife over where Tom's heart was.  
"I could kill you now…" he realized, amazed at the trust Tom put in him.

"I would let you, but only, my Horcrux, because I would be able to come back and take my revenge."

"Such sweet words…" Harry mumbled, and pressed the knife into Tom's flesh. He carved a lightning bolt to match his own in the skin above Tom's heart.

"Mine for forever and forever…" he whispered, his tone bordering on worshipfulness.

"As you are mine for forever and forever." Tom answered, his tone soft with barely hidden amazement. Their situation was still new enough for such feelings.

Harry dropped the knife on the bed and bent down to kiss Tom with all the feelings that had surfaced. Their kiss was soft, only lips against lips, but it felt like it lasted forever. He had the fleeting thought that their Power Play could very well be the death of both of them, immortal or not. All too soon, their kiss was over and they cleaned themselves up so that they looked presentable for dinner.

A few hours later, they were back on Tom's bed. They laid on their backs and looked up at the ceiling, as they took the moment to relax after having socialized for so long.  
"My chest doesn't hurt anymore." Harry said, and broke the comfortable silence that had been between them. Tom turned his head to look at Harry.

"Perhaps your dominant side settled after you marked me." Tom mused. "We have taken the time to prove that we can be dominant over each other without forcing the other to be submissive."

"So… Game over?" Harry asked. Tom was quiet for a moment, scrutinizing his face.

"No, let us play the game until there are no more games to play." Tom said.

"Until the end of the world then." Harry answered. "We'll never run out of moves, no matter how many times we are put in check."

"You really ought to have been sorted into Slytherin." Tom said with a short laugh. Harry merely smiled at him.

"I nearly was, but I was only 11 and those I had met told me that Gryffindor was the best house. Not to mention that Draco was a prat at 11, and if he was in Slytherin, I wanted to get as far away as possible. I'm a snake in a house of lions."

"Yet here, you are a lion in the snake den."

"Ah, but who said that I can not be both?"

"Only you, Harry, only you." Tom answered, and that was it. Words got exchanged for kisses and clothes got removed in favour of caresses.

September 1st came out of nowhere. After spending the beginning of August together, they had tons of things to accomplish in the Ministry before the Hogwarts school year started. They had still more to do during the school year. Tom was in constant correspondence with Lucius over different Ministry matters, while Harry had put Rookwood in charge over his beloved Department of Mysteries. They exchanged letters ever so often, written in codes that Tom always tried to decode. To Harry's great amusement, Tom had yet to succeed.

Tom and Harry sat together in a compartment, as Tom had chosen to go by train for old times' sake. Most of Harry's yearmates that had survived the war were also on the train, but he had decided that he could wait to greet them until the Start-of-Term feast. Tom had Nagini around his shoulders, and Harry had no pet at all. It hadn't felt right to get a new owl after Hedwig - he had borrowed one from the Ministry or used Tom's when he needed to send letters, and at Hogwarts he would be able to go to the Owlery whenever he wanted - and he had yet to find some other sort of animal he might want as a pet. There was also the small problem of Nagini getting along with the hypothetical pet. He actually liked the snake a great deal - she was witty and had a lot of embarrassing stories to tell him about Tom.

"What are you thinking about?" Tom asked.

"How trains have always signified a great change for me." Harry answered. "I do believe that if I ever die, I'll end up at Kings Cross to take the train to the afterlife."

Tom grimaced.

"Death is far too morbid a subject, Harry. This is a change for the better, not for the worse."

Harry smiled sheepishly.

"You must be right. Tom Marvolo Riddle, Defence professor at Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry… that must be the greatest change of them all." Harry teased.

"You might laugh now, but in one year it will be you that are in my position. Certainly no one would ever suspect the Boy-Who-Lived to settle for the role of a teacher, even in Defence."

"I wanted to be an Auror for a while." Harry admitted. "Although that was a long time ago…"

"What changed?"

"War. It was much too real. I don't believe I would ever be able to hunt Dark Wizards without getting flashbacks to the past… the stress would be too much. I'll take the role of a teacher over that any time."

Tom stayed silent. Harry understood, the war would always stay an uncomfortable subject for them.

"If I ever tire of being a teacher, I'm sure the Department of Mysteries will welcome me with open arms." Harry said, trying to get Tom's mind onto happier things. He must have succeeded, because Tom smiled at him.

"Well, Harry, we have all the time in the world to do what we want."

"And we'll do it all together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if Tom or Harry manage to be most out of character...  
> I'm impressed with myself for writing this at all though.
> 
> Next part is the last, so if you wish to see anything this is your chance to suggest it.


	3. Epilogue: Moments in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom, a pensieve and Tom's memories of Harry.

Memories started to collect during the years, too many for them to remember clearly without magic. They kept a pensieve in a warded room, and had bookshelves filled with small vitals with their memories. Harry had been in the room twice, as far as Tom knew. Once, to sort his memories, and once to view one. Tom still had no idea which memory it was, and he had never thought it his place to ask. He found it ironic that he were the one - and _not_ _Harry_ \- who used the room frequently. Before, his past was the last thing he wanted to think about. Now though… he don't actually know why he frequented their memory room so often. Not all memories he viewed were precious to him. He looked back at their worst moments as often as he looked back on their best. He never touched the memories that belonged to Harry though. Only his own. Harry was always the subject in his memories anyway.

Tom locked the door behind him, even if he knew that Harry never disturbed him during these moments. He walked through the shelves and picked the vitals that held memories that had affected him the strongest. The vitals settled along the pensieve's brim. Tom poured them all in and stirred them with his wand so that the first one rose to the surface before he dipped his head.

_14th of January, 1999  
_ He found himself in the Great Hall. It was decorated with horrible pink hearts, and he recognized that it must had been Valentine's Day. His past self is seated at the High Table, to the left of Headmistress McGonagall. Tom looked around, trying to spot Harry. It must had been early in the morning, because the tables weren't full yet. The doors opened, and Harry came in.

_Tom frowned when he saw Harry come in. His mate was quite obviously hiding something behind his back, and as it was Valentine's Day, it didn't bode well. Harry don't stop by the Gryffindor table, but walked up to the High Table and stopped in front of him. There was a big grin on Harry's face, and Tom thought for a second that he should be worried. Then Harry took out the item he had been hiding and placed it on Tom's - thankfully empty - plate. Tom looked down and started to laugh._

The memory still made him smile and filled him with warmth. He don't know if Harry actually thought much of his gift, but Tom treasured it highly to this day. It did have a certain double value.

" _The Sword of Gryffindor?" Tom managed to get out between laughs. "You never stop surprising me!"_

_Harry kept grinning at him.  
_ " _Bit late, but I thought you might like the full collection." he answered with a careless shrug. Tom shook his head in amusement._

" _I- Thank you." Tom's laughter calmed down, and he smiled fondly at Harry._

" _It has absorbed Basilisk poison, so be careful with it will you?" Harry said, and with a wink he turned around to sit down at the Gryffindor table._

" _5 points from Gryffindor for your cheek!" Tom called after him, laughter still in his voice._

" _Oh, sod off, you know you love me!" Harry called back without looking at him._

Tom couldn't help but laugh himself. Harry would never fail to amuse him. It had been worth the scolding the both of them got from Minerva afterwards for disrupting breakfast.

_1st of September, 1999  
_ He found himself in the Great Hall once again, but those blasted pink hearts were gone this time. His past self was no longer seated directly on the left of the Headmistress, instead he sat next to Harry who was directly to the right of Minerva. The sorting must have just ended, if the nervous looking first years he could see by the tables were to go after.

_Tom held Harry's hand underneath the table. He knew that Harry was nervous - Harry had graduated just a few months ago and now he was back as the Defence professor. Tom felt rather ecstatic, not only would the Dark Arts course start this year but he would have Harry by his side as his equal. Last year had resulted in a few fights between them since he had been forced to act more dominant as Harry's Defence professor, but they would be back on equal footing now._

" _Isn't that You-Know-Who?" was said loudly from the Gryffindor table. Tom felt how Harry froze beside him. He glanced at the Gryffindor in question, a first year who glared right back. The loud chatter from the other tables had been reduced to whispers._

" _It was." A seventh year answered. Tom thought he recognized the girl as a Prefect._

" _You don't reckon he's gonna kill us all, do ya?" the first year continued. Tom narrowed his eyes. He knew Harry would snap soon if no one else stopped it._

" _I bloody well don't think so. He was a brilliant Defence professor last year." a fifth year boy called out from another part of the table. There was some agreements from the other Houses, especially Slytherin._

" _What do you mean was?" asked the first year._

" _He's teaching Dark Arts this year, see. Harry Potter is the Defence professor." the Prefect girl explained. The first year looked up at the High Table again._

" _That's downright nasty though. You-Know-Who and the Saviour sitting together." the first year said. Tom could feel the rage rising inside him._

" _Would you be so kind Mr. Daubney as to stop questioning professor Riddle indirectly?" Harry asked from next to him, his voice loud and clear. "And I especially dislike being accused of being - what was it -_ _ **nasty**_ _for sitting next to a fellow professor."_

" _I didn't mean-" the first year started, bewildered. "You see, professor, I know all about how you were meant to kill him. My aunt fought in the war, you see. I can't believe that you're letting that wanker stay alive after all he did."_

" _20 points from Gryffindor for repetitive disrespect of your professors, Mr. Daubney." Harry said, his voice a low almost hiss but still ringing clear in the almost silent Great Hall. "Don't you dare suggest that I should kill my mate again, or I will see you in detention for the rest of the year."_

Tom felt his heart burst with pride at how vicious Harry could be. It was a side that he saw rarely nowadays. His past self rubbed calming circles on Harry's lower back, and the first year was getting glared at by his fellow Gryffindors. It was so often the Gryffindors… but he had gotten asked himself by Slytherins why he didn't kill Harry. Tom grimaced at the thought.

_31st of October, 1999  
_ Speaking of Slytherins wanting to get rid of Harry… He found himself in the Hogwarts infirmary this time. Still in their first years together as professors he would guess, after glancing around. Harry was laying in a hospital bed - the same since the first visit in first year, Madam Pomfrey had once told him - and his past self was sitting next to the bed.

" _Please enlighten me to how you could possibly miss the staircase and fall down four floors and survive." Tom said slowly, staring at Harry as if he were some puzzle._

" _I was having a very enlightening conversation with Ms. Greengrass as we were walking from the Defence classroom to lunch in the Great Hall. The staircase was about to move, and she walked past me onto it without problem but I stumbled as she moved past me, and missed the step." Harry answered, with a small smile as if he found the situation amusing._

" _Only you, Harry, only you." Tom answered with a shake of his head as he made up plans on how to best punish the Greengrass family for the obvious assassination attempt._

" _I would expect nothing less on Halloween." Harry answered._

Tom snorted. Harry had something bad happening at Halloween each year without a fail. After the first ten years of it, Tom had started to place bets on what would happen. They had had a lot of fun, coming up with impossible ideas for what would happen. He _had_ checked once to see if anyone had placed a curse on Harry for the accidents to happen, but it was really just Harry.

" _Ah… I can't say that I'm very fond of the date either." Tom answered with a slight grimace._

" _Oh, I almost forgot! It's the anniversary of your supposed death!" Harry exclaimed with a grin. Tom shot him a glare, but decided against pointing out that it was the anniversary of Harry's parents' death as well. He would not be so cruel._

" _I'm very much alive, thank you. Unlike certain others, who_ _ **fell down four floors.**_ " _Tom answered. Harry pouted at him._

" _I didn't die." Harry said, and looked directly into Tom's eyes._

" _No, my love. You didn't die, and I'm forever thankful for it."_

" _...you do remember that we're immortal, right?"_

Tom couldn't help but snort again. It was so easy to forget when Harry found himself in life-threatening situations so often. He was glad beyond words that Harry was immortal though.

_9th of August, 2001  
_ Hogwarts Infirmary faded away, and he found himself in Diagon Alley instead. Tom's heart clenched. Oh, he was so very glad that Harry was immortal indeed. He watched silently as his past self walked with Harry beside him, they were looking through windows as they discussed the coming school year.

A green beam of light, so very recognizable, came from Knockturn Alley and hit Harry in the middle of his back.

_Tom could only watch in horror as Harry stopped talking and fell forward.  
_ " _Harry?" he asked. "Love?"_

_No response came. Tom dropped the bags he had been holding and looked towards the source of the killing curse. He saw a wizard in the shadows of Knockturn Alley that looked triumphant, and silently casted a petrifying spell at the man._

" _Call the Aurors!" Tom screamed at the crowd that had started to surround him. He didn't look up at them, instead he chose to turn all his attention towards Harry. His love, his mate, was laying face-down on the ground. Tom turned his body so that Harry was resting on his back. With rising panic, he felt for Harry's pulse._ _ **Nothing**_ _. Tom felt something unfamiliar run down his cheeks as he started shaking Harry's lifeless body. His vision started to become blurry, but he didn't care._

" _Harry! Love, come back! You can't die, not now, not_ _ **ever**_ _! Please, Harry, open your eyes!" He could barely hear what he was saying, but he continued nonetheless._

Tom clenched his fists. If there was any memory he wished to obliviate from his mind, it was this. It was the only time he could ever remember being this afraid, and the only time he ever cried. Harry meant everything to him, and he would _never_ let Harry leave him.

_Harry opened his eyes, and brought up a hand to touch Tom's face.  
_ " _I saw Kings Cross! As I thought I would!" Harry said, his hushed tone excited. "It was all white! It looked amazing… but I didn't want to be there, Tom. I didn't want to take the train to the afterlife."_

" _You didn't, my love. Why didn't you?" Tom asked in a whisper. Harry frowned as he tried to remember._

" _Someone met me there… they told me that I shouldn't be there. They sent me back."_

_Tom smiled. He could feel more tears, but he didn't care. He only cared about that Harry was alright. He hugged Harry close to him.  
_ " _Never again, my love. Never scare me like this again. Perhaps I need to chain you up after all…"_

_Harry gave out a short laugh.  
_ " _At least, it wasn't Halloween this time." Harry said, and looked at Tom with amusement in his eyes._

He frowned slightly. Harry found too great amusement in near-death situations. He didn't have time to ponder more on it as Diagon Alley faded away from him.

_31st of July, 2008  
_ He looked around the bedroom. They had still been working at Hogwarts during this time, but shared an apartment in Hogsmeade instead of using the school's living chambers. He could see the lights from Hogwarts if he looked out the window, but he kept his eyes on the bed. His past self was still mostly asleep, and the space next to him was empty. He would wake up any minute now… Tom walked over to the bathroom. The door was open, and he could see Harry inside. Tom leant against the doorway as he waited for his past self to wake up and find Harry.

_Tom came to slowly, unhappy with being awake so early during the summer break. It was still dark outside, it had to be the middle of the night… so why was the space next to him cold? He woke up quicker when he realized that he was alone in bed. As he sat up, he saw that light was coming from the bathroom. Usually, he would have accepted the explanation and gone back to sleep, but something was different this time. He could hear sobbing. Not sure what he would find, he left the bed and walked slowly towards the bathroom. Tom opened the door more as he reached it._

_Harry was standing in front of the mirror, pulling at his hair and looking in the mirror at different angles. His movements were jerky, as if he had done it for a while but stubbornly continued._

" _Harry?" Tom asked, his low tone soft with a hint of concern. "What are you looking for?"_

_Harry's reaction was immediate. He turned towards Tom with rage, fear and… desperation? in his eyes.  
_ " _I don't have a single grey hair." Harry started, his tone icy. "Nor a wrinkle. To be truthful, I don't look a day older than 17."_

Tom took a deep breath. He knew this. Harry was always calm before the storm. He could see his past self come to the same realization, as he took a step back and raised his hands in a placating manner. Perhaps that had been his mistake that time… Treating Harry as a wild animal was never a smart move. He knew that very well now, had most likely already known it back then.

" _It's all part of our immortality, dear. Isn't it beautiful?" Tom asked, trying to feel more sure than he was._

He flinched at the familiar words. Immortality was as cruel as it was beautiful… just as Harry could be, he mused. Speaking of Harry… he turned to look at his beloved's past self. The rage was exchanged to indifferent ice and Harry nodded sharply.

" _Oh, it's beautiful indeed." Harry hissed and walked past Tom into their bedroom. Tom barely had enough time to turn around before Harry had disapparated._

Tom stared back at the confused face of his past self. Confusion that got exchanged to anger and then to despair and lastly to resignation. He knew what happened after this, and he didn't want to relive it any time soon. Harry disappeared for a month - to obsessively research immortality in the Time Room he had later learnt from Rookwood. Harry took the heat repressive potion for the first time in years. Tom only knew because he got the backlash of Harry's hormones during that time. It was first August 31st, exactly a month afterwards, that Harry came back to prepare for the new school year, and that his past self had realized that it had been Harry's 28th birthday. He had made sure to stay up with Harry on all birthdays after that - even his own.

_2nd of September, 2017  
_ The memory changed from their apartment to the Hogwarts grounds. He could see Harry sitting by the Great Lake, and his own past self walking down from the castle. It was not a happy memory per se, but it would always be important to him. Tom followed his past self, who had sat down on Harry's left side, and sat down on Harry's right.

_Tom looked out over the Great Lake.  
_ " _I missed you at lunch. Have you been here since morning?"_

" _Yeah… Tom?"_

" _What is it?"_

_Harry turned to look at him.  
_ " _Do you ever want children?"_

His past self stayed quiet. It had been the first time that Harry ever asked him. He hadn't been able to see it at the time - since he was keeping his eyes on the lake - but he had seen this memory so many times that he knew what Harry's facial expression would be. Real curiosity and overwhelming sadness…

_Harry continued when Tom didn't answer.  
_ " _Most of my friends have children. I have to see them every day as their teacher. I just… I just thought it might be nice, you know?"_

" _Perhaps in a few years." Tom finally said, as he dismissed it as Harry's heat and therefore omega instincts talking._

They didn't talk about it in a few years.

_31st of July, 2048  
_ He found himself in their bedroom, though no longer in the Hogsmeade apartment. He recognized it as Grimmauld Place 12. It was summer, so it was not much of a surprise that they lived in London instead of Hogsmeade. Tom looked around. His past self was lounging on the bed with a book, and Harry was in the shower. The clock on the wall was a few minutes to midnight.

_Tom saw Harry come out of the bathroom as the clock was about to strike twelve. He put the book to the side and rose from the bed. A small box rested in his hand._

" _Happy Birthday, Harry." Tom said, and slipped down on one knee._

" _Should I threaten to walk right out of here and have you search the whole planet for me?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. Tom simply smiled at the deja-vu._

" _Will you marry me?" Tom asked, and opened up the box so that Harry could see the ring. It was a simple silverband with an emerald in the middle, and a ruby on each side._

" _Ah, so I have to travel the planet now." Harry said with a laugh, but still took the ring from the box. "I'll marry you, Tom." he answered. Tom stood up._

" _Here, let me.." Tom said, and reached for Harry's hand but Harry moved his hand away. Tom felt how Harry slipped the ring on his finger. He looked down on the engagement ring on his hand, and then up on Harry._

" _Love, I think you finally managed to be more Slytherin than me." Tom said, and looked down on the ring with wonder._

" _You're mine, I thought it more fitting." Harry answered with a small shrug. His grin gave him away._

_Tom chuckled and moved to kiss Harry._

He looked down on his own finger, where the engagement ring still rested together with his wedding ring. The two rings meant more to him than the Gaunt ring had done as his Horcrux.

_5th of March, 2104  
_ The memory took place in a kitchen this time. His past self was reading the _Daily Prophet_ , a forgotten mug of coffee next to him. Harry was standing up by the stove, making tea through Muggle means. Harry always made tea during his heat, it was one of those quirks that Tom had learnt to love.

_Tom lowered the newspaper and stared in front of him, seemingly at nothing._

" _What is it?" Harry asked, as he sat down next to Tom. When Harry didn't get an answer, he glanced down at the paper. The headline read_ _ **Minister of Magic Dead. Lucius Malfoy died yesterday evening at the respectable age of 150.**_

" _Tom?" Harry asked, his tone worried, and placed one hand over Tom's. "Are you okay?"_

" _Yes…" Tom answered slowly, and turned to look at Harry. "I knew his father. Abraxas. A year above me in Slytherin, fairly decent. He was one of my first followers. Lucius would have made him so proud…"_

" _It's okay to not be okay, Tom." Harry said, his voice as soft as a whisper. Tom felt how Harry squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture._

_15th of June, 2137  
_ It was Hogwarts yet again. The castle didn't look any different from when he himself had been a student. Tom smiled fondly at the castle, before he turned to his past self and Harry.

" _This is it. It's goodbye." Harry said softly._

" _We can still come back." Tom reminded him. Harry shook his head, the motion so small that Tom nearly missed it._

" _I think it's time to say goodbye for real. We've been working here for almost 140 years. I never left in the first place - except for the year during the height of the war." Harry answered._

" _Ready to finally see the rest of the world after 150 years?" Tom asked with a small smile._

" _157." Harry absentmindedly corrected. "And we have seen some of the world, Tom. Remember the summer we spent in Albania? Or the one in Egypt? Not to mention the winter that we managed to visit France…"_

" _We never spent long in any of those places, love."_

" _Which is why this is a final goodbye. Hogwarts has been our home for too long already."_

" _Are you ready?"_

_Harry turned to look at Tom. He smiled softly.  
_ " _I don't think I'll ever be more ready."_

The memory faded as his past self took Harry's hand and they apparated away.

_18th of December, 2164  
_ Once again a new memory. He found himself in a small cottage. He couldn't remember where this time, but there was snow on the ground outside. Harry and his past self was sitting by the kitchen table, Harry with the _Daily Prophet_ in front of him.

" _Hermione has died." Harry whispered, staring at the paper as he couldn't believe it. Tom looked up at him._

" _Not surprising. She was well over 180 years old, wasn't she?" Tom commented, tone light but his eyes watching Harry as an hawk. Harry's reaction was still unpredictable after 166 years together._

_Harry looked at him, his emerald eyes filled with fear._

" _I can't remember the last time that I talked to her. She was my friend, and I can't remember the last time that we talked!"_

" _Things had been tense between you two for decades." Tom pointed out. "She wasn't much of a friend anymore."_

_Harry shook is head in denial.  
_ " _She was everything I had left. She was one of my first friends, and now she's gone…" Harry's whisper died out, and he continued to stare at Tom with fear in his eyes._

" _Do you want to go to her funeral?" Tom asked carefully._

_Harry shook his head again.  
_ " _Tom. Kill me. Please... I can't take this! They're all gone, and they deserved to live so much more than I!"_

_Tom took Harry's hands in his.  
_ " _Don't you dare say that Harry. You deserve life." he hissed. Harry shook his head again._

" _I want to be with them, Tom. Don't keep me alive when you spent years trying to kill me in the first place!"_

" _I haven't wanted to kill you in almost 200 years!" Tom said angrily._

" _Do it anyway! For me! Don't you love me, Tom? Do you want me to suffer?" Harry asked. Tom could see tears in his eyes._

" _I'll kill you, my love, but only if you make a Horcrux first." Tom answered, no - demanded. "I will_ _ **not**_ _let you leave me,_ _ **ever,**_ _do you understand, my love?"_

Tom looked away from the scene. Harry would ask for death more times after this, he knew. But that day back in 2164 had been the first. Harry didn't leave his side for days after it. They never did go to the funeral. It had likely been for the best.

_21st of June, 2184  
_ They were laying together on the bed this time. It was dark outside, and his past self held Harry in his arms.

" _Do you think our family is too small? I can't remember the last time we even had a pet…"_

" _Is Nagini not enough? Her company can be a handful as it is."_

" _You can hardly call her a pet, Tom." Harry answered with a small frown. "Wouldn't you like it if we had an addition to the family?"_

_Tom turned to look at Harry.  
_ " _If you are with child, say so."_

_Harry's face became flushed and he shook his head.  
_ " _You know very well that I am not. You wouldn't want one then?"_

_Tom sighed.  
_ " _I have never thought of myself as a father. It's not part of my instincts." He paused and looked at Harry searchingly. "Is it your instincts as an omega?"_

_Harry made a shrugging motion.  
_ " _Maybe? I just… always wanted a family of my own. It's been everything I wanted since I was a kid. Not that I remember ever being a kid…" Harry gave out a dry laugh. "I had to grow up so fast. I don't think I would know what to do with a kid if I ever had one."_

" _You have a family of your own." Tom pointed out. "You have me."_

They never talked about children again. Perhaps they should? No… Harry would never be able to take it if he outlived his own child. Their various pets hurt Harry deep enough.

_5th of November, 2755  
_ The memory took place in a bedroom again. He thought back on the memories he had seen. Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, a bedroom, a kitchen… With how much they had travelled, it was a surprise that most of his important memories took place in the same place. Always different bedrooms and kitchens, but still. Tom didn't care to look around this time. His past self was reading a book and Harry was sitting on the window seat. Harry had been in heat he remembered, but the distance had seemed normal back then. Tom frowned. He could never pinpoint when Harry's depression started.

" _Tom?"_

" _Yes, Harry?" Tom didn't look up from his book._

" _775 years is quite a long time to live… I think I'm content with it. I think it's enough."_

_Tom looked up from his book. He scrutinized Harry searchingly, but Harry kept his head towards the window.  
_ " _What are you trying to say?" Tom asked._

" _I'm ready to take the train."_

" _Which train, Harry?" Tom asked, his tone growing impatient._

_Harry turned to stare at him, but his eyes seemed lacking, empty.  
_ " _To the afterlife."_

_Tom threw his book away and got up from the bed. He walked over to Harry in a few steps. As he stopped, he took Harry's face between his hands and stared down at him.  
_ " _No."_

" _I can try to kill myself." Harry offered in a small voice._

" _You'll never succeed."_

_Harry sighed.  
_ " _That's the problem, isn't it?"_

_Harry turned towards the window again. Tom's hands fell from his face._

" _Love…" Tom sighed and sat down behind Harry. He embraced Harry from behind. "Together forever, was it not?"_

" _Forever is a very long time, Tom."_

" _It is." Tom agreed quietly. "But it's never enough."_

_31st of July, 2980  
_ Tom barely reacted as the memory changed. It was still a bedroom, only in a different house. The changes were small, and he didn't care about them. He knew exactly which memory this was. It was one of his worst.

" _Happy 1000th birthday, love." Tom smiled warmly at Harry and brought him closer to kiss him. Harry didn't respond. Tom frowned slightly at him. Harry's depression had come and gone in periods for the last few hundred years._

" _What's wrong?" Tom asked as he looked searchingly at Harry._

" _Isn't this enough?" Harry asked quietly. "I've been alive for a millennium, that's as good as being alive forever. Can't I die now?"_

" _It's never going to be enough, Harry." Tom answered. His frown deepened._

_Harry looked up at him, his big emerald eyes seemingly unstaring.  
_ " _Okay." he whispered, and disapparated. Tom startled as Harry disappeared from his embrace._

Tom stared at the spot where Harry had just been. He had still not forgiven Harry for it. He most likely never would. Not to mention how irresponsible it had been for Harry to leave so close to a heat cycle. The memory morphed around him. His past self paced the living room. There were bags under his eyes, and he frequently glanced at the door. Harry was still gone. He had been for the past month.

The memory morphed again. Half a year without Harry. The living room had been replaced with Grimmauld Place. They had spent a lot of time in the Black home during their life, and he remembered that he had checked back there quite often in hope to find any clues to Harry's whereabouts. His past self was digging through the closet in the master bedroom. He looked thinner and the bags under his eyes were darker. Tom sighed. He almost felt the bond connection as it torned his past self apart. It hurt to be away from his mate. He only knew that Harry suffered through the heats alone because he had felt nothing through their bond connection.

The room disappeared as the memory morphed for a third time. It was a year without Harry now, down to the date. His past self sat down as he wrote a letter. Tom walked up behind him to read it.

__**My love,  
** __**happy one thousand and one birthday.  
** __**I miss you greatly. I can't seem to find you.  
** _**Have you gone to space with Muggle means? I hope not.  
** _ __**It doesn't matter if you have. I will not stop searching before you are in my arms again.**

_**Forever yours,  
** _ _**Tom** _

He knew that the letter would come back unopened a few days later. The memory morphed for a last time.

_Tom looked around the Graveyard. Of all the places he had thought of to search for Harry, this had been the very last of them. He walked past a statue that he didn't look twice at - even as it changed when he got closer. He walked deeper into the Graveyard until he saw a lone figure in front of two graves._

" _It's been a thousand years since they sacrificed their lives for me." Harry said as Tom got closer._

" _And it's been more than one year since you left me." Tom answered, as he tried to control his anger. "_ _ **Never**_ _do that_ _ **again**_ _!_ _ **Promise me!**_ "

_Harry turned his head slightly, just enough so that he looked at Tom.  
_ _/I want you to kill me./_

_Tom flinched slightly at the parseltongue. Harry spoke the language so rarely that he had forgotten what it sounded like when Harry did.  
_ _/I'll never kill you, my love. You know that./_

_/Then I can't promise to never leave again./ Harry answered, and turned his head so that he faced the graves again. Tom looked at him quietly._

" _Will you at the very least come home?" Tom asked. He switched back to English, because Harry's use of parseltongue had unnerved him greatly._

" _I will. I have suffered as well as you have." Harry answered and stood up. He turned towards Tom. "But I needed this. I needed to be away from you."_

" _How many times did you try to kill yourself?" Tom asked quietly, afraid of the answer._

" _Three hundred and sixty five times. Every day from my thousandth birthday until my thousand and one birthday." Harry answered calmly, a small smile on his lips. It looked cruel._

" _Why couldn't I find you?" Tom asked. He had to know._

" _Because I know you very well, my dear." Harry answered and stepped forwards so that he was almost nose to nose with Tom. "Let's go home."_

Tom glanced towards the graves of Harry's parents as the memory started to fade away. A bouquet of lilies laid in front of them.

_31st of December, 2998  
_ Tom raised his head from the pensieve. So much death… it seemed to follow Harry closely. He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the morbid thoughts. Tom sent the memories back to their vitals with a flick of his wand, and then the vitals back to the shelves with another flick. After he took a deep breath, he crossed the room to the door and unlocked it.

Harry was leaning against the wall opposite the room. Tom blinked in surprise when he saw him.

"I was wondering where you had been hiding." Harry said with a small, playful smile.

"Not hiding. Reminiscing." Tom corrected.

"I would have expected you to do that in May, not on your birthday." Harry answered and looked at him searchingly.

"It wouldn't have been as meaningful in May." Tom said, and closed the door behind him. He stepped closer to Harry to embrace him. "I'm so very happy that you're still here…"

"Where else would I be, Tom?" Harry asked lightly and embraced him back.

"Dead." Tom answered, his tone grave.

"I would not be so cruel as to leave you alone, dear."

Tom eased their embrace to look at Harry.  
"Really?"

"I would take you with me to the grave." Harry promised, with a smile worthy of a predator.

"Is that my birthday gift then? A promise of death?"

"That would be foolish of me, Mr. Flight from Death. Your birthday gift is much better."

"Oh?" Tom inquired. "What is it then?"

Harry grinned at him.  
"A thousand years more together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's an interest, I might write something about the one memory that Harry has seen. If not, I'll keep it a secret.
> 
> Reviews would mean a lot! This is my first finished Harry Potter fanfiction, my first try at these characters and my first time writing A/B/O dynamics. Critic would be very helpful x


	4. Memory of a memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested - the story of the one time Harry saw a memory.

_31st of October, 2981_

" _Let's go home."_

The words echoed in his head. With three simple words, a year and three months of running were thrown away. Tom's soft kisses and careful caresses pained him, the love and thankfulness in those gestures made him want to leave again. Harry closed his eyes in silent acceptance. He had done this to himself. He could have kept on running until the end of time, but he had already grown tired of it. Misery loves company after all, and he didn't have it in him to suffer more on his own. It was not fair towards Tom, and he still loved his mate dearly after a thousand and one years of life.

"What's on your mind, my love?" Tom asked, haltering in his lovefll gestures. Harry shook his head lightly, the movement barely noticeable.

"Just glad to be home, my dear." Harry answered, the lie falling easily from his lips. He could see that Tom didn't believe him, and he did not blame Tom for it. His voice was lacking feeling, and he was like a lifeless doll in Tom's hands. He wanted to scream, but he had screamed, he had done everything to end his misery, and the only one that could end it was Tom, who never would out of love and selfishness and fear, so Harry didn't scream. If Tom's love was dangerous, then he had to make his own love dangerous as well.

Harry took a deep breath to steel himself and stared into Tom's dark eyes.  
"Unward the pensieve room for me."

He could see how thoughts and questions flickered through Tom's head, but Tom simply nodded and led the way to the room. Harry didn't know where the urge had come from, but he needed to see something that could remind him what he was doing this for, and something that could set his love on fire until it would burn Tom to a crisp. He knew how to be selfish, even if he had nothing to fear left.

Tom unwarded the room in the matter of minutes, and then turned to leave. He paused, and looked over Harry as if he searched for something. Harry looked back, expressionless.

"I'll make you some tea." Tom finally said and left. Harry watched him go, before turning to face the door.

A deep breath, and he pushed the door open. Shelves upon shelves filled with vials with memories met him. Harry closed the door behind him but left it unlocked. He gave Tom's shelves a fleeting glance before summoning his old Gryffindor courage. He started to go through his own shelves, and gave every label a searching glance in hope of finding the right one. He needed a memory of Tom, and he had many, but he needed a memory of Tom Riddle before Lord Voldemort existed. He needed a memory of the man he had fallen in love with, not the monster he had fought against.

When his eyes fell on the vial, it felt so simple that he could have laughed. There was something deeply ironic about the memory he needed not being his own to begin with. Harry picked up the vial and walked over to the pensieve. He uncorked the vial, and watched with faint interest how the silvery wisps of memory simmered down into the pensieve. When the vial was emptied, he put it on the pensieve's brim. A deep breath later, he bent his head down to watch the memory.

" _She wouldn't even stay alive for her son?"_

Seeing his 16-year old self was almost like looking into a mirror. His hair had grown out since then, and his eyes were lifeless, and perhaps he had gained more scars, but the rest was much the same. Well, if one ignored that he was barely much more than a skeleton. Eating had not been a priority when he spent a year trying to kill himself.

" _Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Lord Voldemort?"_

" _No,"_ Yes. " _but she had a choice, didn't she, not like my mother-"_

" _Your mother had a choice, too."_

He wished he could fast forward until the memory he _wanted_ to see, but this was important too.

" _Yes, Merope Riddle-"_ Gaunt. She had been Merope Gaunt until the end, a marriage caused by a love potion held no value. " _-chose death in spite of a son who needed her-"_ He couldn't blame her. Marvolo and Morfin would have killed her son, and soon her as well. Death seemed so easy after abuse, when you didn't think that you deserved better. " _-but do not judge her too harshly, Harry-"_ He snorted. If anyone judged too harshly when it came to this family, it was Dumbledore. " _-She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage-" Why did you compare our mothers, Dumbledore? "-And now if you will stand…"_

The sensation of following his past self into a memory was unpleasant yet not. He didn't wish to do it again. Harry ignored his past self and Dumbledore, to follow the younger Dumbledore closely. It would be easier to just ignore the other two.

He zoned out as Dumbledore talked to Mrs. Cole, as the conversation held even more weight this time than it had done the last. Harry became aware of his surroundings again as they entered the young Tom Riddle's room.

The small boy sitting upon grey blankets with his legs stretched out and a book in his hands made Harry's heart clench. It was so fascinating to see Tom as a child, now that he knew Tom as _Tom_ and not as Lord Voldemort. The likenesses were remarkable, and Harry felt his lips strain into a smile. It soon disappeared as the young Tom Riddle started talking about the asylum. What a dreadful childhood… Harry stepped forward, and carefully embraced the memory child as well as he could. The conversation between Tom and Dumbledore was mere background noise. Harry was more interested in committing the child to memory.

Until the wardrobe burst into flames at least. Harry felt his whole being get filled with rage at his former Headmaster. Had someone come to the Dursleys and put his cupboard on fire, he would have felt much the same. That was not the attitude an adult should have when introducing a child to magic! He had never hated Dumbledore more than he did in this moment, as he watched the old man force Tom to take the stolen trophies out of the wardrobe. Could Dumbledore not see that Tom needed help and guidance, not punishment?!

Harry paused. He had felt depressed and lifeless for years, decades, perhaps even a couple of centuries, yet seeing how Dumbledore treated the young Tom enraged him and filled him with a need to protect and care for Tom. Perhaps that was what would make his love dangerous… his need to protect and care for. He had not gotten much chance to do it as Tom always strove to prove himself. Harry cared for everyone but himself, and Tom wanted to prove himself but didn't care. One would think that it wouldn't be a problem for them after centuries together, yet it was. Their constant fights for dominance and Tom's instincts as an alpha did not help matters either… Harry frowned. He had no child to care for, and they had no pets at the moment, and he didn't care for himself. Who was there to care for if not Tom?

As he looked towards the 11-year old Tom Riddle again, he made a decision. He would suffocate Tom with love if it was so, but he would care for Tom, and it would lead him to happiness. If he ever doubted himself, he only had to remember this child, Tom Riddle, the orphan that didn't know about his parents nor magic. It was enough to ignite a fire in Harry's heart.

The memory changed around him, and suddenly he found himself back in Dumbledore's office.

" _Yes, Riddle was perfectly ready to believe that he was - to use his word - 'special."_

Harry smiled to himself. _That's because he is._

The memory ended and he was back in his own room. Harry put the memory back inside the vial and sent it back to the shelf with a flick of his wand. He had no more business in this room.

When he had put up the wards again, he found Tom leaned against the wall with a cup of tea in his hands. Harry took the cup with a nod of thanks. He said nothing about the memory he had seen, and Tom didn't ask.

They walked to their bedroom in silence. Harry went to the window seat, and Tom followed. They sat down together. Harry leaned back so that his body rested against Tom's, and Tom put his arms around Harry's waist in an embrace.

"Will you let me care for you?" Harry asked quietly, and blew on his tea to make it bearable to drink. Tom always made it just slightly too hot.

"Will you stay with me?" Tom countered.

"I can't imagine another heat without you." Harry answered dryly. "I might stay for that if nothing else."

Tom sighed.  
"I can't take it if you leave again, Harry." he said quietly. It was almost that Harry didn't hear him.

"You were right to think of love as a weakness, my dear. Love hurts, and it takes, and it's everything if you let it be."

"Which is why you're my love, Harry."

"Will you let me care for you?"

Harry turned his head slightly so that he met Tom's eyes.

"Of course, my love."

Tom embraced him tighter. Harry looked back towards his tea.

"Then I will stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up much shorter than the rest, but I didn't feel like it needed to be much.
> 
> As I honestly never can leave things alone, I'm considering writing what happened for Harry during the time he was away, but it would be about his 365 suicide attempts more than anything. Maybe it will happen, but I make no promises. I'm already writing a new one-shot where Harry works in a pet shop and Tom needs help because Nagini is sick, not to mention that I should get back to Harrietta Potter: The Boy-Who-Lived (which is only posted on ff.net for now). ...I also have three other ideas that I want to write. You'll probably see a lot from me this year.
> 
> Thank you for reading x Any reviews are greatly appreciated.


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